Fascination
by TheWendigoSuit
Summary: Dorian seems drawn to the Inquisitor, it is a fixation he can hardly comprehend within himself that has nearly become overwhelming. These attempts to learn more of the Inquisitor however have proven to fail each time. It has become evident that Adaar held no interest in revealing himself. However, what was this near obsession within Dorian that held him so firmly invested? M!Adaar.
1. Unforgettable

**AN:** _Due to the lack of Dorian and Adaar I went ahead and decided to start a little something. The first of the few drabbles I'm writing to help me cope with the fact that Dragon Age Inquisition (Dorian) is now further away. Pardon my typos, inbox me if you find any._

"You seem different from other qunari." Dorian spoke up as he strolled into the dining room, his fingers streaming though his damp fresh head of hair. He had to conceal his chuckle at the sight of this able bodied qunari before him whom's evidently only true struggle was to simply be able to drink from these small goblets that he could only hold in his fingertips that were clearly intended for human use. Adaar looked up at him.

"You must have met many qunari to make such an assessment, I gather?" he asked as he slammed the goblet down onto the table in defeat. Grunting curses in his language to himself, he reached out and plucked the red clay pot of tea from the table. He ripped the top off and proceeded to drink from it with no care in mind of whom it would upset as he leaned back in his seat. He felt his nerves fade away at the familiar taste of the warm spices and sweet herbs that spread over his tongue, soothing him effortlessly so. Dorian sighed as he watched the Inquisitor drink from the pot he himself he himself had hoped to have gotten a share of. Adaar paid no mind the man's bothered demeanor however.

"I have indeed. With my time in Tevinter it was expected."

"And how pray tell am I different from these Qunari you have encountered?" asked the Inquisitor. Dorian set aside his frustration, taking a seat across from the qunari.

"Well, for one the fact that we sit here speaking to one another is a wonder in itself." he commented as he took one of the sweet breads from the center of the table.

"How so? Because we are not attacking one another due to the origin of ourselves? The Qun is nothing but a former affiliation that was thrust upon me. I trust the same could be said for you." he pointed out and Dorian tilted his head in agreement.

"In part, but you're a mage. I have seen the way the Qun treats their mages. The way they accept their fate with no question. Hands, neck and ankles bound by chains and their mouth sewn shut. Then once you have all that, let us not forget the rod that leashes them, that has them at the whim of any command their Arvaarad sees fit." Dorian explained, bewildered even so as he described it. Incapable of comprehending how such a treatment could be ever exist. "And I am more than certain you know how they willingly choose to end themselves should they ever be separated from their Arvaarad. I cannot understand how they instill such ideas, how they are able to inspire such loyalty into someone they see as nothing but an abomination." Dorian took in a breath, attempting to calm himself as he brushed a hand through his hair, nails scraping across the scalp as though it would help. He looked up at Adaar. "Seeing you here, it is a wonder in itself that you defied. You are some manner of vision in my eyes. I can scarcely believe you are who you are, that you stand before me." he told the Inquisitor with the slightest of smiles twitching at the corner of his lips. Adaar did not comment, merely stared at the mage a moment before looking out to the sight beyond the stained glass doors that were cast open, setting the pot down upon the table.

"Sounds personal."

"How can it not? Magic courses through me, and I bear no ill will for ever possessing such a thing. I am simply unable to comprehend why they are like this and how you were not."

"It is how you were brought about into this world, to believe and think in the fashion that you do. Those born into the Qun, they were brought about in an alternate manner. It goes for the rest of the world as well. It is result of varied opinions." he spoke, taking the clay pot in hand once more. "As for myself. I am a different matter entirely." he stated as he raised the pot to his lips.

Dorian gave no answer initially, considering the Inquisitor's words. There would always be varied beliefs and the world was not something so easily persuaded. Dorian shook his head looking down at the sweet bread in his hands. A particular memory wandered into his mind as he felt the sugar leaving powdered residue on his fingers. "I was a young boy when I witnessed it for the first time. I was 13 or 14 at the time and Tevinter was keen to taking prisoners, and there was one rare occasion where they managed to capture one Saarebas alive from the group that had attacked us upon travel, they even manged to keep the rod that leashed him intact. My mentor was a good woman, not something common where I am from. She was kind to the qunari, but he would have none of it. He refused to eat anything she gave him, any aid she attempted to offer." Dorian frowned, clenching is jaw as he continued. "I remember watching at him at times as he stared off into the distance, like a…a statue. This hollow shell of the being that could have been. When no release was had, she awoke one morning and found him dead in his tent, he'd eaten the dirt until he chocked on it." he spoke lowly, the image of the qunari turned on his side with claw marks in the ground from where it had scooped from, his face powdered in pale dirt and his mouth hung wide open with mounds of mud trickling out. Dorian put the sweet roll back into the pile where he'd taken it from.

"Such is their way." he stated as he moved the pot of tea in front of Dorian. Adaar watched as Dorian made not attempt for it, evidently wounded by the memory playing out in his mind as if for the first time. Dorian looked up at him, shaking his head.

"It does not make it just."

"And you think that the Tevinter is just?" he snapped and Dorian looked like he'd been struck across the face. Baffled and stunned by the abrupt comment.

"I never said that." he nearly exclaimed, appalled by the Inquisitor's words.

"You certainly believe your views to be superior to Vivienne's concerning The Circle." he countered. Dorian glared back at the Inquisitor.

"What? Now you're defending those that would treat you like a monstrosity?" Dorian spat. Adaar laughed, his rich bellowing voice echoed throughout the halls.

"I defend nothing." he grinned crudely. Adaar then rose from his seat and moved around the end of the table, their gaze locked and it gave Dorian thrills of distress. He was uncertain what the qunari intended and he did not know whether to flee or steel himself for some manner of a physical fight. All this went back and forth through his mind as he instead remained seated and chose to act on none of what his mind suggested.

The qunari's focus was nothing else, his eyes strong and relentless in all it's violet glory. Adaar approached him, towering over the mage looking up at him with an irrational fear shining in his gaze. Adaar then took a seat at the edge of the table, his legs upon the seat beside Dorian. Adaar averted his stare then as he turned to hike up the end of sleeve that belonged to his left arm followed by the right. Carefully then he proceeded to remove the cloth bandaging around each wrist. He turned them out for the necromancer to see. Dorian's eyes widened at the sight, the marred skin was scabbed and scarred beyond the healing capabilities of one's own body. It had been the heavy leather guards bound him and rubbed and scrapped him repeatedly for years. Dorian looked up at him as concerned as one could only assume, unable to speak.

Adaar silently then began to undo the top three claps of his tunic and revealed the same deep violet bruises that had apparently never faded around his neck from the leash. His eyes traced the scars that spread across his chest in varying directions and patterns. When Dorian faced his friend once more he was then able to notice the deep punctures around the qunari's lips from where his mouth had been sewn. The urging desire to reach out, to be able to somehow mend what had been done to him was a need that pained Dorian in more ways than he could have ever imagined.

Adaar then spoke, "The world overall believes their way is just but what they fail to realize is that no one is right. No one is wrong. We are all a medium of what should be. I do not defend the Qun, I do not defend the Tevinter, and I do not defend The Circle. I defend a world that stands before a precipice of change. The old ways will die." he stated, his violet stare piercing through Dorian. "Do not believe that everything I do or have done has simply been for the world to return to their old ways. They will live in the new world or die in their old one. A new dawn is rising and I will bear witness to the evolution that is to come or perish in my attempt to do so. Whichever fate I may bear." he stated and he could see in Dorian's eyes the sudden need to speak but he did not permit him. "I know how I must sound. A conqueror? Perhaps I am in a sense. I may be no better than the Arishok whom attempted to thrust his ways of the world upon Kirkwall but I, truest to my core believe my intentions are just. You know this, otherwise you would not follow me." he told him and Dorian said nothing, absorbing Adaar's words. The qunari slid off the table, taking the pot with him as he returned to his chambers to leave Dorian to his thoughts.

As Dorian considered, he felt at a loss however. How the conversation had all began, he'd never intended it to take such a turn. Adaar was clearly incapable of handling a simple compliment…


	2. Wanderlust

**AN:**_ As it says above, it's the second part to this drabble that is quite possibly becoming more than just a drabble. I'm not entirely certain anymore. As always, inbox me for any errors you stumble across if you'd like._

Dorian as of late had found himself unable to withdraw his gaze from the Inquisitor, it went on unknowingly on his behalf that he did so. The words Adaar had spoken to him he could still hear each time they happened to catch one another's eyes. It was not exactly disturbing but rather moving, there were far too many questions upon Dorian's tongue. There were nights where he would lie awake, staring up at ceiling. The memory of the damaged skin would slip into his thoughts. His mind would wander into just how such a thing would feel, how it was inflicted upon him and how he managed to endure. It was not exactly that he was haunted by the memory of the flesh but rather mesmerized. What made Adaar exactly? One could only assume what was done to him, why should he care what happens to anyone? What compels Adaar to be who he is? There were so many things left unanswered in his mind, it aggravated him to no end to be so utterly aware that he would never possess the truth as a whole.

Dorian upon their travels found his eyes carefully following the curve of the Inquisitor's horns, from where it began and to where it ended in a fine edged wisp. Perfectly so. However, it made no sense to Dorian why the Inquisitor bore them considering what he once was. Dorian's lips parted, unable to detain his curiosity. "I have a question." Dorian spoke up.

"And it is nothing but a pleasure to indulge your desires." Adaar spoke lowly in that unmistakable manner intended to mock him. How someone with such a monotone voice manged to be so sarcastic never ceased to astonish him. Dorian scowled at the Inquisitor with a scoff, crossing his arms. Were his expressions far simpler to determine, he would have believed the Inquisitor was humored by the way Dorian chose to pout. "Ask." Adaar sighed with a wave of his hand. Dorian had half a mind not to speak at all but his curiosity always bested him in the end.

"You were a Saarebas, correct?" Dorian inquired. Adaar's eyelids fluttered shut upon the question as if irritated.

"A question you already know the answer to. This is what you choose to waste breath upon? Incredible." he commented a shake of his head.

"You are completely impossible. How anyone is able to converse with you is beyond me." he huffed, brushing a hand through his hair in utter frustration. Adaar rolled his eyes ever so slightly as he looked over at the necromancer awaiting for him to finish lashing out his fit so that he may continue. Dorian then took a moment as he adjusted himself, sucking in a breath. "Very well. What I intended to ask before you so rudely interrupted is if you were in fact a Saarebas, how is it that you still have horns? If I'm not mistaken, which I rarely am, upon being removed they are never to grow back. No?"

"Yes. That is correct."

"Well, how is that you have these then?" he gestured Adaar's clearly untarnished pair. The Inquisitor looked away from him. He fixed his eyes firmly ahead upon the road before them. He remained silent a moment as if debating whether to answer Dorian at all.

"I took another's." he stated. Dorian was both stunned that he had been answered at all and by the content of the words he'd been given. "The one who held the leash." Adaar added. It made Dorian no less confused however.

"Your Arvaarad?"

"'Yes." he said, his eyes still kept ahead as though determined to avoid all eye contact from Dorian and all that may be listening in as well.

"Was this upon your escape?"

"Yes." he said. Just as Dorian gained confidence that Adaar was at last willing to open up even the smallest inkling of himself, that harsh voice silenced him before being given the opportunity to question him further in this particular matter. "And I would not speak of it." the words emerged from his lips sounding well enough like a warning no matter how one may choose to receive it. Dorian's felt himself crumble in complete and utter disappointment as Adaar had yet again raised those accursed impenetrable walls to guard himself once again. Oh, how they served him well.

"Ah…well, could I at least ask how the horns of your Arvaarad became attached to you?" he dared ask and Adaar gave a snap of his fingers, white hot sparks clicking off them.

"Magic." he told him. Dorian wondered what manner of spell was utilized to preform such a task but he knew that this was all he would receive. Dorian pursed his lips. He knew well enough he now tread a fine line, yet he spoke up either way. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

"Could I ask why it is you took his specifically? Was this intended all along or was it merely happenstance you took his?"

"You may ask." Adaar gave a nod then looked back at the necromancer. "Though I am not required to answer you nor shall I." he quickly added. "Free will. How compelling." he spoke as he picked up his pace to gain an appropriate distance from Dorian and his insistent prodding. Dorian felt as though shriveling up within himself as he watched Adaar walk away from him.

"Well, I dare say, someone looks awfully offended." smiled Sera, nudging his shoulder. Dorian remained silent as he reached into his pocket and quickly pulled open his small handbook to a random page. An apparent attempt of desperation to ignore her. "You know, in some places of the world, some people don't like having their business pried into, I'm just saying." she smiled and put her hands up defensively. She put a finger up to her chin thoughtfully. "Oh wait? I think that's pretty much common everywhere you go. How about that?" she mocked him with a shrug of her shoulders. Dorian sighed, tucking the book away in defeat.

"I wasn't trying to."

"You know what he was. Do you think you'd be eager to talk about it if it had happened to you?" she pointed out. Dorian frowned.

"No." he spoke quietly. "I suppose not."

It was not something he had entirely considered after all this time, he had never meant to offend the Inquisitor. He simply had a keen desire to understand him, to fully know him in every aspect. And this fascination was never something he'd fully acknowledged within himself. He had become far too blind to his own intentions concerning the Inquisitor.

Dorian that evening at camp found that he was unable to eat his meal, picking at it in silence even after everyone had finished and had begun to turn in for the night. He watched from across the fire pit with his bowl of soup in hand as Adaar spoke to Sera in earnest. Careless, friendly conversation. He was almost tempted to ask Sera how it had ever been accomplished but he knew well enough that it was hardly that simple. Things weren't simple because Dorian was himself and Adaar was who he was. It was apparent their personalites clashed. Dorian found part of himself wishing that this could cease one day. That he could sit and speak with Adaar without sparking up an argument unintentionally.

He watched then as the two headbutt one another, such had become some manner of bonding gesture between them of their evident friendship. Sera chuckled from the slight daze it had caused on her behalf then departed from him, undoing the buckles of her armor as she slipped into her tent. Adaar walked over to the fire, pouring what soup remained in his bowl to extinguish the flames. "Lights out." he said to Dorian as turned heel and began to make way towards his own tent. Dorian tossed his bowl aside, following after the qunari.

"Adaar." he called out his name. He ceased his movements though he did not turn to face Dorian.

"I believe you've said enough for one day, no?" he answered. Dorian sighed, he was at a loss on how to make this right. Nothing Dorian said in his defense ever seemed to appease the Inquisitor.

"Adaar. I'm sorry." he told him. " I just…I'm curious about you." he confessed.

"Curious?" Adaar shook his head at the word as though it were nothing but absurd. "Take your curiosity to the Bull if learning of the Qunari is truly your interest. Leave me be."

"But it's not the Qunari I want to know about." Dorian attempted to explain.

"Parasherra." he turned to face Dorian, those eyes bore into him. It was not a look of hate nor anger but one of utter frustration. It occurred then to Dorian that he was not the only who was incapable of fully understanding the other. Adaar simply could not comprehend the necromancer's intentions. "Then what is it you seek from me?" he nearly demanded. Dorian mouth fell open but not a sound nor word emerged from within it.

"Will you two please shut it? We've been travelling all day and I'm bloody exhausted, I want to sleep. I don't care if you don't but I do." groaned Sera.

The two then looked away as they took a step back from one another, embarrassed almost. Why was it like this? Why was it always like this? Everything was always to be some manner of debate or argument between the two. Dorian held no hate in the slightest for the Inquisitor and nor did Adaar for Dorian. "My apologies." Dorian apologized to Sera. He cleared his throat and made way towards his tent with his heart in hands.

If he could only explain, if he could only put such a feeling into words…He would tell the Inquisitor he that he found him to be a tale, a book he had never heard of. The binding was made strong despite the age. It is textured with physical wear upon it. It is felt intially at first touch. Though as one's senses absorb, it is soon discovered in the smallest places in between that are nearly nonexistent and well kept in secret, that there are untarnished fragments that are smooth. Pleasant to the touch. The pages may be frayed and lost but it does not keep one from wondering and searching for what was once there. Though as eager and hopeful as one may be to carry on in roaming it's pages, the ability to continue has become an effort that loses each time in each attempt ever made…


	3. Overneath

**AN:** So, evidently it's became slightly more than a drabble. Though I am attempting to keep it brief otherwise I may not finish it. Also I apologize for the delay, though with this much content-I'd say I'm forgiven. But I digress, enjoy.

Pardon my typos.

* * *

Adaar's frame fell twisted and tangled between the warm furs pulled over himself as he sought a slumber free of history. His eyes began to shift swiftly beneath his eyelids as his mind drew him, submerging him unto the ruins of a past best left forgotten. His scarred lips twitched crudely as though the will to speak had been taken. Heat broke throughout his body, his face slick with sweat as his breathing grew brief and labored. It seemed no comfort deigned to exist within the closed eyes of a dangerous thing…

_His skin ached beneath the leather bound to his neck and arms. He could feel the rot begin settle. The irritation pricked like thorns upon his the flesh, peeling raw from the perspiration gathering beneath the restraints. Adaar was then tugged forward by his chains, nearly stumbling over at it's force. He looked up at Arvaarad whom was urging him to follow. Adaar could feel his body weaken with each step, weary with hunger, his throat was sore with thirst yet even so he continued. He refused to falter._

_He watched as one of the Saarebas fell to it's knees, overwhelmed by it's own exhaustion. Arvaarad came to a sharp halt as he plucked the golden rod from his belt. With a wave of his hand the contraption extended farther in length, glowing a pale aura as he commanded it to gather itself up from the ground. The Saarebas groaned in pain in it's struggle. It was evident that in some part of it's being that death was deeply desired yet absurdly enough it did not want to defy the Qun."You will not die unless I allow it. To your feet, now." Arvaarad stated. The power of the rod forcing it to rise._

_He imagines he ought to feel kinship to the other Saarebas but he does not. He is nothing like had always been something within Adaar that could not and would not allow him to submit to this fate. To forfeit. To comply as all others had. He refused it all. The Qun however has mistaken his determination as loyalty for their order. Adaar lived in everlasting envy of humans, elves, and dwarves. These beings whom were free to live as they so chose. Though all creatures were fearful of those touched by magic, there was no treatment quite as his. Perhaps there were horrors he had yet to hear of in regards to the world beyond the Qun but he had to believe in a place where he would not be feared for what was given to him, where he would be looked upon as any other being._

_Adaar then felt the gaze of Arvaarad upon him, staring at him with those eyes he was so utterly undeserving of. There had been a time where the two had shared the same face. The same blood, but Adaar had long dismissed all claims of kin in regards to he. To see his own face staring back at him, cold and cruel throughout all these years was maddening above all else. Arvaarad's lips then parted, "We make camp here tonight." he stated to the Karataam. Though Arvaarad may have spoken to all, it was meant solely for Adaar and he knew what come. What he had been anticipating for far too long._

_Once the camp had long been prepped, Adaar was brought to Arvaarad's tent. Arvaarad dismissed those posted at his tent yet he did not move nor speak to Adaar until certain they were alone. Satisfied, he turned to him.. He took Adaar's face in his hands that was bound in the tattered golden mask. "Their encampent is nearby, down west of here. I will move there shortly after we are finished here. I will return once I have prepared then you and I will move at nightfall." he told Adaar, staring at him as though awaiting an answer. He pressed their foreheads together. Adaar responded incoherently in a series of groans, still debilitated by the rod. "Tonight. On my honor, I will release you." he told him._

_Arvaarad withdrew then and escorted Adaar back to his tent, chaining him to the post with the other Saarebas. He sat in silence as he awaited the darkened sky, he was filled with promise at the prospect of his freedom. All he had ever endured, to have been selfishly relentless in keeping Arvaarad alive would at last be of worth after all this time. Just as Arvaarad would not allow him to die, he would not allow Arvaarad to die. He could never be separated from the one who held the leash or he would be slain. Arvaarad seemed to believe he was favored by Adaar, that he was grateful for his life. Nothing could have been further from the truth, Adaar simply had no desire to die. Not for him. Not for Arvaarad. He now seemed to find humor in how Arvaarad believed that Adaar has forgiven him for what he had done to him all those years ago when it had all begun. Arvaarad was blinded by this grand belief that freeing him would redeem all him of all his sins to Adaar. Though this was nothing more than a fool's notion…_

_Upon the sky cloaked in darkness, Arvaarad came in quietly to retrieve him. Arvaarad took up his patrol once he relieved the others that had been on watch. He awaited once they were out of sight. Quietly then he began to move out the camp, tugging Adaar's chain. He followed after Arvaarad, lead further and deeper into the woods. Adaar's could feel his very nerves tremble with anticipation as they did so, his heart pounding fiercely within the confines of chest as though it would shatter his very bones. He could hardly recall a time where he had last felt such thrills._

_They soon came to a halt where a large tree that fell hunched on it's side with it's branches looming low, it's ends brushing against the forest floor carelessly. Arvaarad raised the branches to reveal two corpses of Tal-Vashoth hidden concealed bodies were bare, stripped of all belongings and clothing. It seemed Arvaarad had indeed snuck out earlier as he had said, hunting them down and leaving them here for this moment. Arvaarad grabbed the two by their horns, dragging them out from the brush. Without hesitation Arvaarad peeled away his helmet from his skull, removing all of his own very own equipment then quickly proceeded to adorn one of the bodies within his armor. Carefully, he laid his blade at the grey one's side and shrugged his off his satchel from shoulder. He withdrew from the satchel what he'd taken from the bodies earlier and dressed himself in the belongings._

_He then made his way towards Adaar, moving behind him as he began to tend to the bindings of the collar with swift fingers. Adaar's shoulders throbbed once the weight slid from his shoulders. His arms nearly seemed frail once the chains fell from his wrists. He felt unnerved and exposed upon the mask being raised from his face. Adaar stood free and bare from the shackles he had worn all these years. His raw flesh seemed to ache at the touch of cool air upon it and yet he savored this moment. This brief taste of freedom so utterly at his very fingertips. "We are nearly there. Come." Arvaarad spoke and pulled Adaar close by his jaw, with steady hands he raised a dagger to Adaar's face. He angled the blade at those withered, dry, and sutured lips then paused a moment. He gave a nod to Adaar before proceeding, carefully he began to slice away the thread that bound them together. It was more painful than Adaar could have ever predicted and as simply and quietly each stitch was removed one by one by Arvaarad, he could recall just how simply and quietly they hand been placed there one by one by Arvaarad…_

_Once the thread was taken away, his lips quivered loosely, unaccustomed and uncertain at the loss of the sutures that once held them in place. Adaar hesitantly sucked in a breath through his mouth and instantly became overwhelmed by the amount of air he'd pulled into himself and began coughing wildly till his eyes teared and swelled red. His clutched at his throat that became strained, attempting to mend the pain. He thought about breathing through his nostrils as he had always and he hated every bit of himself that considered it. To seal his lips shut out habit and fear. He knew well enough If he could hardly stand a mouthful of air then how would could manage freedom when it came? He would have none of it. He would endure as he always had._

_Arvaarad shoved the Tal-Vashoth garments into his arms. "Dress. Quickly." he ordered Adaar as he returned to the corpses, placing the other body in Adaar's restraints. Adaar did as he was told and pulled the clothing onto himself. It felt strange, to wear something so thin and light. His footing was at a loss of balance, he had long adjusted to the weight that had always grounded him. Arvaarad then beckoned him forth. "Come." he clutched the rod in hand, commanding Adaar to join him near the grey one's. He then ordered Adaar to burn the bodies. They needed to left black and charred to a point where only their faces were beyond recognition. He was unable to rid himself of the awful stench of burning flesh that crept up his nostrils as he watched the flames engulf them, his blood boiled at the memories the stench did trigger. He was soon commanded to cease once Arvaarad was satasfied by their state._

_He approached Adaar then with the golden scepter raised, both their eyes upon it. It was only then that Arvaarad seemed hesitant and Adaar was still powerless to deny him. He could see in Arvaarad's gaze the number of thoughts rushing through his mind. Weighing out every possible outcome. Attempting to discern whether or not Adaar meant to harm upon being released. He spoke then, "You have not forgotten, have you? It was I who chose to keep you alive where father had seen it fit to end you. It was I who took this duty upon myself to allow you to live." Arvaarad told him and Adaar did not answer nor would he were he able to do so. "I would have you blink both eyes if you understand. One if you do not." he ordered Adaar as his grip tightened on the rod. Adaar blinked both sucked in a breath, if only slightly relieved. "I still believe in the Qun, but I shall never be able to return now." he told Adaar as he looked down at his blade laid on the ground. "I choose you over the Qun. All I could want would be for you and I to be as we once were long ago. You have accepted and served your punishment to the Qun and I see that there is no longer need of it. You have long understood what you are. You've proven this to me time and time again." he spoke then looked down at the rod, swallowing hard. "I wish for us to be brothers once more, Adaar." he said and Adaar's eyes widened at the use of his name. A name no one had cared to utter again. A name only he himself had always kept in his heart._

_He watched then as Arvaarad raised the rod once more. "On my honor." he gave Adaar a brief nod as he then broke the rod in two upon his knee. Adaar lurched forward, clutching at his chest once the bind was torn away from him. It felt as though his insides had been ripped out from his chest in a single stroke and was left with a gaping wound at his center that he could not mend. It was a pain so utterly indescribable, he nearly fell to his knees from this seemingly unending agony. Adaar had always lived in the prospect that such a process would be a simple one. It had never dawned to him that doing away with all his shackles would have been painful as it had been to receive them. It was only then that it occurred to Adaar how much damage had truly been done to him. An undesired fear struck him then, what if he was unable to adapt? What life could he possibly have outside of the Qun? He had a role long before he had been discovered a Saarebas. What could be meant for him now? Simply the very notion of the possibility that he had learned to love his chains was a thought worse than any physical pain. He then felt Arvaarad place a hand on his shoulder in concern, telling him to calm himself. Adaar refused to live in fear and comply, this is precisely what the Qun would have of him. To deny infinite possibility._

_Adaar then cursed at himself mentally, shouting and commanding himself to rise. He would not have himself falter, not now. He began to even his breaths as he chose to ignore the pain of the bind that had been taken from him. He he forced himself to stand straight, coming face to face with Arvaarad. "I sworn on my honor I would free you." Arvaarad squeezed his shoulder, looking upon Adaar the same way he had once looked upon him all those years ago when they had stood side by side one another. A time where he had once called him brother. Such times were no longer mourned by Adaar nor would they inspire sympathy._

_Adaar's lips then parted as though to speak."Y-you-" Adaar struggled to find his voice, to say the words that were so vivid in his mind._

_"What is it?" Arvaarad asked, genuinely concerned._

_Adaar clenched his fists, controlling his breath as he spoke then. "Y-you. You have n-no honor." he bit out between his teeth as he then channeled all the strength of his magic into his force capabilities, all he could will into his right arm. He angled his hand into a sharp point then shot out his hand, piercing through the flesh of Arvaarad's abdomen, thin hot streaks of scarlet lashed over his body and mouth. Adaar reveled in the shock and horror that spread across Arvaarad's face. It was a sight he had long desired to behold and he savored every moment of it. Adaar grit his teeth as his claws tore up through his chest, shattering through his bones that caged his vitals. The cry that was torn from Arvaarad's throat seemed to resonate in Adaar's mind as nothing short of a serenade. The coppery taste upon his tongue seemed to satisfy passions that had long lied dormant within him. Adaar's fist then came to grasp upon the still-beating heart of Arvaarad. It's pulse flickering away at his mere touch. He snatched the organ out from it's confines, severing all traces of life it had ever given him._

_Arvaarad's body then fell limp to ground, it's mouth hung open and eyes peeled wide. He stared down upon the face that was once his own. Ending him had been so simple and frail. Somewhere in his mind he had believed Arvaarad to be this indomitable beast. That he was incapable of ever dying. Yet there he lied. It had been the rod, the leash that made him seem so utterly powerful. There was nothing more to him beyond it._

_Adaar wiped away the hot blood streaming down his face and cast the organ in his fist aside, sucking in a breath. He moved behind the body and kicked it onto it's front. He placed a foot down upon the skull and took in hand each horn. He pressed down onto he skull as he began to pull. He ground his teeth as he utilized every bit of strength he could. The skull began to crack from the utter force, the crunching of bone and flesh being torn apart was the only sound amongst the silence of the forest. He began to twist and tug at them once he felt them grow loose. His foot then broke through the skull, caving it in and Adaar nearly fell back once the two horns came apart. Adaar could not give the words to describe the feeling that spread throughout him as he grasped them firmly in his hands. There had been no pain when his had been removed. Though there had been a different manner of pain. This shame. To have had something severed away that had always been part of you…_

_Adaar stepped away from the mangled body and tucked the horns under his arms. He took the satchel that lay upon the floor and pulled it over head to his shoulders. As he looked out upon the open world before him, he seemed almost hesitant for there no one there to command him to proceed. There was no one. Nothing. Simply a world filled with with all manner choice. Adaar despised the fear that held him still. He was crazed by the idea that he could not live without a voice ordering him what to do and what not to do. Adaar did not move for what seemed quite some time. In the end he seemed to discover that he was incapable of living without command. It had never occurred to him until this moment then however that there had always been a voice to lead him long before Arvaarad, one that had always been more powerful than he…_

Adaar awoke sometime between the middle of the night, his fur covers cast aside and twisted as he found himself laid out upon nothing more than the grass itself. Though his body and eyes were still weary from his sleep, he managed to tugged on his clothing and stumble out of the tent. He found that all the others still lay asleep, all others aside from Sera and the Bull whom were giggling like children in his tent to themselves as they made obscene figures with their hands in the shadows from the light that cast from the lantern. "So much for being exhausted." he murmured as he wiped a hand over his tired face. He decided he would use this against them later in the day if they made a single complaint of being exhausted. His gaze wandered from the two to Dorian's tent that was still and quiet as all the rest. Adaar sighed, pushing aside the argument he'd encountered with him. The man stirred many thoughts within him, most of the pleasant ones seemed overwhelmed by those he did not favor. Adaar sighed as he took his staff in hand, seduced by the idea to take a small stroll to soothe his nerves on the rise.

He was then interrupted by someone's voice behind him. "Not just a dream, was it?" the familar voice spoke. He looked above and found Solas seated upon a branch from a tree that was beside Adaar's tent. It took only Adaar a moment to realize what the elf had meant. He glared up at Solas, clutching at his staff. The elf knew then that it was best to remain up as high as he could rather than come down as he had originally intended.

"Give me one reason I should not take this tree down along with you." Adaar demanded from him.

"I don't think I have one." Solas answered honestly. Adaar's lip curled up, simply the idea of having his mind infiltrated at all infuriated him beyond reason.

"You have something to say?" he bit out.

"An observation. Nothing more." Solas told him. He was well aware that once trifled with that nothing would appeal to the Inquisitor yet he persisted even so. "It was done out concern." he explained.

"I assume this is your apology?" Adaar seemed almost baffled by the pathetic attempt. Solas shook his head.

"I'm not apologizing. I'm not sorry." he said and Adaar narrowed his gaze at him.

"Then why have you bothered to tell me what you have done? You know that I would never approve nor consent." he snapped at him. Solas did not answer right away. He paused a moment as if choosing his next words wisely.

"Will you hear me out?" he offered and Adaar made no attempt to speak nor a gesture to suggest whether he wished to hear Solas speak or not.

"You have never been able to accept who you are, to be able to see yourself through your own eyes instead of another's. You've allowed the great shame your past has instilled within you in to have you feel no pride in each deed you accomplish. You inspire hope to all but yourself because you continue to allow the corrupt notion of another to fester within you."

"One glimpse at a fragment that makes up my entire being and you now claim to know every detail of who I am?"

"I only tell you what I've seen from you. What I witnessed in the fade and what I witness from you presently. I remember the look on your face when you rescued that small girl and her father yesterday. He was afraid of you because you were a mage but she wasn't. Not at all. When she came up to you and could barely wrap her arms around you, you looked lost. You seemed hesitant. "

"A point?"

"You believe yourself unworthy of praise at times. I can only imagine that it must be difficult for know that there is no longer anything holding you back, only yourself. You choose to stand at the edges rather than leap, you do not wish to have something to lose other than yourself."

"I am utterly impressed by your incredible powers of perception." he scoffed crudely. Solas stared at him, unphased by his mockery.

"Continue to deflect with your cynicism and sarcasm if you'd like. I am not you enemy. Neither is Dorian or anyone else who has willingly chosen to stand here at your side. I am your friend." Solas said to him. The words struck Adaar where he would have never suspected.

"Ah? Truly?" he sneered at him. "Is that all?"

"No one here means to betray your trust. " he met eyes with Adaar whom had no desire to hear anymore. "No one here is your brother." he stated and the two looked upon on another in silence. Solas imagined Adaar would lash out upon him at any given moment for his words, but he never did. Adaar said nothing as he turned away and made his way into the brush of the forest.

Contrary as to what would be assumed, the next morning began as though nothing had necessarily changed nor did the days that followed. All took notice however that the Inquisitor had become rather distant. His mind had become prone to wander and linger upon what Solas had seen within him. He was conflicted in believing he was correct at all. It felt as though he would lose the battle deep inside of himself were he to admit that Solas had seen the truth of him. Nothing had ever changed. Not within him. Was he truly fearful of submerging himself unto something other than himself? He had long known that he had already. He looked around at all his people. Sera, Cassandra, Cole, even Dorian. Simply in their presence he found a sense of comfort he had never known. There were things inside him he could not deny. This irrefutable kinship he felt towards all of them. It was something he had unknowingly strove to keep away from himself long before he had ever come across them. It was simpler to live without being concerned over anyone but one's self.

"You take the cap off. You put it in the river. You hold it there until it's full. Then you put the cap back on and there you have it. You've got water ready for travel." Sera's voice awoke him from his thoughts. Adaar stood before a river with his water skin in hand staring down upon the stream. Evidently Sera noticed his lack of movement. Both Sera and Dorian had been watching him for quite a bit.

"I know it is done." he told her as he knelt down on a single knee and began to fill the skin with water.

"Well, I wasn't the one playing statue like a bloody moron." she scoffed as she placed the skin her belt and walked away. Dorian felt his comfort dissolve once Sera had left him alone with Adaar. He thought about quickly following after her but he found that his legs could not will him to do so. He himself had indeed felt need to inquire upon the Inquisitor's behavior but Dorian had reason enough to be reluctant.

His eyes returned to Adaar, watching as those large hands tied the skin to his belt. Just as Adaar was about to rise, he grew still a moment. Adaar seemed to then to catch his reflection in the river. Adaar shifted his head ever so slightly in each possible angle as he eyed himself in stream. He seemed disturbed somehow. Adaar then reached in and gathered water in his hands and proceed to wash it over his face. He began to repeat this process, each one far more harsh than the last as though he meant to erase whatever it was that he had seen. Dorian's hand trembled as he reached out, considering whether or not to intervene. He bit his lower lip, knowing well that it was best leave him be but Adaar had always seemed to have some certain effect on the man. Adaar would always cause him to cast aside his better judgement.

"Ah, you seem… distracted. Lately." Dorian managed to speak and he found himself regretting it not a second sooner. He took notice that Adaar had not ceased his actions and no response was given. Dorian sighed as he turned to leave the qunari alone.

"Dorian." his name was then called out in that thick and unmistakable voice. Dorian had to stop and look back as though believing he his ears were deceiving him. The Inquisitor faced the river still, weaving his slick fingers back through his hair as though tugging upon it in utter frustration. "I would speak with you." he told him. Dorian seemed hesitant for Adaar made not not movement to look back at him.

"If you wish." he pursed his lips as he kept an appropriate distance from the Inquisitor. He however was seemed determined to anticipate the worst. Adaar sighed as he withdrew from the river and sat back upon the ground, carefully pushing back his damp hair out from his face.

"I feel compelled to apologize to you." Adaar spoke and Dorian then became less and less certain he was not asleep. Perhaps his ears truly had been deceiving him after all? The Inquisitor then grew still all together as he looked out upon the river as the sunlight illuminated him gloriously so. "I have been bitter with you." Adaar shook his head, frustrated as the words strained in his mind. "I know not why I do this, it has never been my intent to do so." he continued. Adaar found this difficult but the need to have these words lift from his shoulders was far greater. "You must understand that no one questions. It causes certain things within me to surface that I can scarcely comprehend. I imagine to humans it must be common to speak openly, to confide in one another but in the matter of myself, it is unfamiliar to be approached in such a way." he sucked in a breath, shaking his head. "Yet it hardly justifies my blatant disregard of how this rash behavior of mine could effect you…I apologize to you and I understand if you are not willing to accept it." he stated.

Dorian stood there stunned beyond reason. He nearly refused to believe for a moment that those words had been emerged from the lips of this very being before him. Dorian's mind grew tangled with the sudden chaotic storm of thoughts going back and forth through is mind. He thought about asking him who put him who had put him up to it, who had convinced him or what had inspired this abrupt change. Dorian couldn't imagine anyone ever talking him down from anything at all aside from Josephine whom was clearly not present. What on earth had given him perspective? Adaar was not someone who was beyond reason but he was the manner of being whom never apologized for his actions, good or ill. Dorian evidently felt uncertain how to receive it. Though in that moment it all suddenly felt as if none of it ever mattered. Those precious arguments of theirs. They seemed almost petty, comical even. Dorian had never felt any sort of rancor from them, simply complete and utter frustration. He also felt at guilt as well.

"I-I am both…touched and appreciative of your concern Inquisitor and accept your apology but I am at fault as well. I should have been more mindful and respected your privacy."

"No. It is good of you to ask." Adaar stated and Dorian seemed surprised by the comment. What was this sudden change of heart? This sudden twist in him? "I have come to realize that-" he sighed, gritting his teeth. " I may have abandoned the Qun but it's mark is still upon me." he seemed aggravated but only with himself it seemed. "I must adapt. Learn. Understand my freedom. This behavior is nothing but an excuse. I cannot and _will_ not hide behind my past like a coward throughout my whole life. This is _my_ existence. I did not abandon the Qun to continue in this manner. To have them prove to me that I am unable to live without a purpose I have not chosen myself beyond the reach of their order. I would have myself live as I have always desired. " he told him. Dorian could clearly see this had always been something Adaar had struggled with long before they had all come together, he couldn't imagine what such a thing felt like. To discover you are still tethered to your past no matter how far you may have fled.

Dorian however had found himself unsuspectingly beginning to fall in love with what he bore witness to. To have been able to have this moment, to see Adaar truest and raw before him was a feeling he could not explain. "It has taken me long to accept that you and all that stand here with me are not mere allies. You are friends of mine. There were no such things in the Qun. There was simply order, rank, and duty. To know one's place, there was no room for the emotions that flourish so…effortlessly, naturally with other creatures like current of this stream. Freely." he said and remained silent a moment. Adaar then gathered himself up from the ground and made his way over to Dorian. The intensity of those eyes as powerful as ever. His lips parted. "I would ask of you one thing." he stated.

"Of course."

"Patience." he told him. "I would have you show me. Teach me the way of freedom." he requested and it struck deep within the man. He could not necessarily explain why it occurred but he was suddenly filled with this absurd need to weep. To have walked Adaar's jagged path of obedience for such a vast quantity of his life only then be overwhelmed in a strange new land with strange faces and strange customs… Dorian had never known such a life nor would he ever, to be frowned upon and feared for his magic. Dorian was praised and applauded where Adaar was shamed and looked upon as if cursed.

"Anything you desire." Dorian told him, pursing his lips to fight back the pain aching in his throat. Perhaps it was a smile that tugged at the corners of Adaar's lips in that moment, he was never certain. He was concerned however when Adaar seemed to move closer to him. "What are you doing?" Dorian asked as he took a step back, incredibly confused. Dorian was not the only one who seemed puzzled.

"Are we not to engage in an embrace?" Adaar asked and Dorian's went wide and his head cocking back.

"Wh-what?" he sputtered out, his moustache accentuating the movement of his lips.

"Is it not customary to embrace after such an occasion?"

"Well, yes. But…" Dorian had never felt so out of place. "I suppose you're right but both parties are usually willing."

"Are you not willing?" he nearly demanded, Dorian never imagined the day would come where Adaar would be so utterly offended that someone did not wish to accept his embrace.

"Ah… well certainly, Inquisitor. Only if you are as well." he assured him.

"I am."

Dorian cleared his throat, only slightly fearful. This is had all suddenly shifted far too quickly, it seemed Adaar was determined to shock him today. "Very well, we've agreed. Therefore we can…partake in your suggestion." Dorian pursed his lips, attempting to tuck away how nervous he truly was.

"Do I engage you first or do you?"

"I believe it is your draw, Inquisitor."

"Why must I be the one?"

"Well, because you were the one who suggested it in the first place." Dorian wittingly countered. Adaar stared at him but made no movement to proceed. Adaar had vanquished dragons, he was capable of freezing and shattering enemies apart with a gesture of his hand, and could quite literally shrug aside a demon, since when had a task ever proven difficult of him? "Very well, same time?" Dorian offered and Adaar gave a small nod.

"I can accept that." he agreed. The two did not move then at all either. Adaar was clearly frustrated but Dorian however was far more amused than anything.

"Shall we count to three?" he hid his grin.

"That is ridiculous." he grunted.

"I don't think it could possibly become anymore ridiculous than it already is." he smirked. Adaar clenched his fists, cursing to himself in his tongue. He moved forward and reached out and pulled Dorian into his arms. Adaar held the man firmly against him and Dorian was breathless.


End file.
